I stuck my hand in my pocket, running my thumb across the coarse paper of the Letter. The most important Letter I had ever received.

 I pulled it out of my pocket and stared at it. Was it possible to get this framed? It was already starting to show signs of wear. After all, I had read it at least hundreds of times in the past day. 

 I unfolded it and read it. Again.

 -Headmaster Stephen Cunningham

 -3958 West Magick Lane

 Dear John Smyth,

I’m sure you’re very excited. This is fine. We like excited students. Please bring this excitement. We can always use more students. 

 You are formally accepted to the Magical University for Magical People. Please pack and arrive at the gates at 1400 sharp on Monday. Please come on the dot, lateness is, frankly, not tolerated.

 My deepest condolences, Headmaster Cunningham.

 I had received the letter a few days ago and instantly started packing. When my parents found out they seemed sad. 

 But who cares about that? I was formally magical! Formally special! I just assumed my parents were sad about me moving someplace else. The last sentence of the Letter still stumped me though. I hoped I would figure out what it meant later.

 I arrived at the west gate at noon. It was still two hours until I was supposed to get there. I saw several students walk by, about half a dozen, the majority of which cast disgruntled or disgusted glances. Like I was some sort of normal person.

 Of course, I wasn’t a normal person. I mean, I was like 5 days ago, but now, now I’m different. Now I’m special. These people would learn how much better I was than them, and, frankly, everyone.

______________________________________________________________

 Two hours had passed. The Headmaster started out of the extremely tall building that was no more than a few hundred yards away. It took him 25 minutes to reach the gate, and 5 minutes to unlock the multitude of various locks. It was almost 2:00 PM.

 And right on the dot, he arrived.

 He checked his notebook, “You are John Smyth?” The Headmaster asked. He had black hair and dark skin, he was tall. Taller than me.

 “Uh, yes, I am.”

 “Interesting name.” He turned and gestured me forward past the gate, ”This is your tour. This will be the only tour you get. Do not forget what you hear.”

 That’s strange. Usually they would tell you the rules then tell you again if you needed it, not tell you once then expect you to memorize it.

 “Understood?” The Headmaster pushed.

 “Oh, sorry. Yes, I understand.” I guess. 

 “Good,” he pointed at a tall building, the one he had come out of earlier, it looked a lot like Big Ben. Were they not afraid of copyright infringement? “That is the bell tower. Or clock tower, the terms are interchangeable. It is extremely important that you pay attention to it at all times.” He stopped and stared straight at me, ”And that brings us to rule one.”

 I froze, uncomfortable with his intensity.

 “Never ignore the clock tower.”

 “Why?

 “Rule two,” he continued, ignoring me.”When the bell tolls thirteen tolls, run. Stop to help no one, do not look inside the closets.”

 This was just getting weirder. Was this guy delusional or something?

 “Rule three, trust no one. Especially during Night.”

 “Night?” I asked, noting the emphasis, ”What’s that?”

 “When the bell tolls thirteen tolls, Night falls,” the Headmaster said. Not particularly helpful, was he? “Now, I must show you the various facilities.”

 He was changing the subject, classic misdirection. I wanted to hear straight from him what the school was like, websites and direct observers have different opinions sometimes, so I decided against pointing it out.

 The Headmaster pointed at a building that looked a lot like an average suburban house.

 “That’s the morgue.”

 “...Okay.” I responded, desperately hoping he was joking,”Uh.”

 “It’s very important you know where it is.”

 “Thanks? I guess.”

 “You’re most welcome.”

 So he didn’t get sarcasm either. Great.  A morgue. If I hadn’t had the unlucky situation of being told that by a guy who seemed much too enthusiastic, I wouldn’t even be able to tell.

 “So Headmaster, where am I staying?”

 He pointed at the morgue,”In the Morgue.”

 “What?”

 He laughed, way too calmly for my liking, like he had practiced laughing like one practices another language, ”I am joking.” He unsheathed a sword I didn’t know he had and pointed it at a different building. It was about half as tall as the bell tower, and the side that faced me was full pane glass, “In there.”

 “Are those apartments? It doesn’t seem like enough.”

 “We have a high turnover rate. Now go ahead and unpack. Remember, always pay attention to the bell tower.”

 He turned around and left without saying anything else, leaving me standing there. Like, sure, there’s an actual morgue here, high turnover rate, have fun! What kind of introduction was that?

 I dragged myself over to the dorm-like building, and went up to the front desk. A woman was sitting there, poking at a laptop.

 “Uh, hi. The headmaster told me to come in here.”

 “Oh, Stephen? Did he show you the morgue?”

 “Yeah?”

 She laughed,”Rookies, always so gullible.”

 I blinked and stood in silence. She handed me a key.

 “Okay, thanks.” I walked up to the room, three stories up and went inside. There was a bed. A bed and a chair. That was all the furnishing. Technically livable, but not, like, the pinnacle of luxury.

 The place was free, I suppose. At least they weren’t just flinging me onto the streets and expecting me to sink or swim.

 I really needed to ask some of the other students why everything was so odd. The Headmaster was strange, I couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he was serious. If anything, his sense of humor was horrible. And what kind of clock tolled thirteen times?

 That is not how clocks work. 

 Right as I began to get comfortable, something smashed through the window. Glass scattered everywhere. I jumped and turned to look.

 It was the Headmaster. Why was he jumping through the window?

 “Hi?”

 “Your first class is in ten minutes. Come,” he jumped on the window sill and flipped himself over the side, landing on the ground, which was, by the way, three stories down, after backflipping twice.

 “Dude. I can’t jump out windows” I yelled at him,”How strong are your bones?”

 “It’s all technique. You’ll learn it. Maybe. Well, come on, we haven’t got all day.”

 “What about my window?”

 “The window-fixing team is already on it.”

 “Okay, fine.” I ran out of my room and went down the stairs. I’m not some crazy stunt guy like Headmaster Cunningham.

 He stood, tapping his foot where he had landed after jumping out the window,”Took your time.”

 “I didn’t want to die, all right?”

 “Well, sometimes we don’t get what we want.”

 “So where’s my first class?

 “It’s technically orientation. But we call it a class because of the important information.”

 “So… where?”

 “In the morgue. Actually this time.”

 “You have an unhealthy fixation with morgues.”

 He ignored my statement,”Right then, come on now. We haven’t got all day, and you already wasted a couple minutes when you took the dang stairs instead of the window.”

 Windows, I wanted to tell him, are not a method of transport. Sadly, he was already off, and I pretty much had to run to keep up.

______________________________________________________________

 I sat down on the single chair in the morgue, and braced myself. Considering how things had been going up to this point, this was going to be extremely odd and somewhat informative.

 There were 2 other people in the room already. The Headmaster fired a grapple into the rafters and perched on a beam.

 “Bro, you’re not Batman,” I looked up at him.

 “That’s what we want you to think,” he responded.

 I looked at the receptionist, who was here too, hoping for some semblance of sanity. “Is he okay?”

 “Yeah? Better get used to it.”

 That shouldn’t be possible.

 Several other adults arrived in the room, most through the door. A few of them saluted. What was this, the military?

 The Headmaster walked across the rafters to the middle of the room,”Order in the morgue!” he yelled, even though there was already order.

 “Understood, colonel,” answered a guy in military camo and sunglasses and what looked like a full face mask. Did he think he was in the desert?

 “Good.” He said,”Rookie!” he yelled.

 “What?”

 “None of what I am about to tell you will ever be told to you again. Ever.”

 “Okay,” I responded slowly.

 “Rule 4!” He shouted and dropped down from the rafters right in front of me,”You will either live or die here. Expect no help.”

 “Die?”

 “Oh, have I not told you yet?” Desert military guy laughed.

 “No, I don’t think so.”

 “When the bell tolls thirteen times, it means Night has fallen. It does not matter if it is the middle of day or not, it can happen at any hour,” he said intensely, arms behind his back,”During the Night, everyone except for those of this school will fall into slumber. They do not move, they do not speak, they are sleeping.”

 “Why is that bad?”

 “This does not mean you are safe,” he ignored my question,”Do not go outside, do not leave the artificial light. Do not look out the windows. Do not open your door. Do not let anyone inside your room, you can trust no one.”

 “Why?”

 “Because nothing is as it seems. It will disguise themselves as your friends. In this Night you are Alone. If you allow a denison of the Dark into your room…”

 I leaned back, as he slowly got closer to me, then he continued.

 “You are dead. You may wonder why we have a morgue. That’s where those who open their doors go. Those who look in the mirror. Those who allow the Night inside.”

 “So…” I stammered,”Does any actual schooling happen here?”

 “Yes, it does. Only at night, as the thirteenth hour is significantly less common during the dark. This is why you probably haven’t seen any other students, as the majority are asleep.”

 I had seen some students, but they ignored me, or glared at me like I was in their way. This was probably the reason why.

 “Your schedule is with Denise here.” he gestured at the receptionist, and she threw it at me. The Headmaster grabbed it out of the air and handed it to me. “Get to your classes, never sleep during the night, and do not be off guard, and the Night will not catch you.”

 The tower pounded out a single note.

 Everyone in the room froze and turned to stare at it. I followed suit.

 Twice, and thrice, and four, and five. Each low bong, and everyone grew more stiff. Six, seven, eight, nine and ten. 

 Eleven.

 This one rang longer and deeper than the rest. 

 “no.” someone whispered

 twelve

 And

 thirteen.

 It rang deeper than I’ve ever heard anything ring before. My legs felt like lead. What was happening?

 Why was this happening now?

 The Headmaster grabbed me and threw me out of the Morgue.

 I turned to stare at him.

 He shook my hand firmly.

”Good luck Mr. Smyth, I’ll see you in an hour.”

And then he was gone.

 It was Night.